


For a Good Cause

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brainwashing, Charity Auctions, Dehumanization, Flashbacks, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: The Avengers are having a charity auction.  Bucky remembers how HYDRA used to do the same thing...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrighteyedJill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/gifts).



> * **This fic has Hydra Trash Party elements in the flashbacks, which means bad things happening to Bucky when he was the Winter Soldier. Non-con, dehumaninzation, brainwashing, and generally HYDRA being utterly awful. If this is not your bag, this fic is not for you!** *

“Hey Steve, Bucky, do you have a minute?”

Pepper Potts was not the sort of person who had to run people down; at this point in her career, with Stark Industries, the Avengers in general and Tony in specific, people came to _her_ , not the other way around. Steve didn’t exclude himself or Bucky from that list; she reminded him of Peggy in a lot of ways, and you never kept Peggy waiting. Which made it highly unusual for her to seek them out in their apartment, dressed in casual clothes, her hands empty of their usual phone or tablet. 

“Always,” Steve said, putting his book aside. Bucky just raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and uncurled himself from his cocoon of blankets, putting his phone down.

“Tony’s decided to up the ante for the charity gala this year, or rather, he asked me to.”

Bucky snorted softly. “You were going to do that already; I heard you say that months ago.”

“I like Tony to think he’s still in charge sometimes.”

“Don’t we all,” Bucky said, with a pointed glance at Steve. He didn’t dignify that with a response.

“This ended up being more last-minute than I was hoping, so I apologize for that in advance. I was talking with Maria Hill. They wanted to raise your profiles in regards to things that aren’t punching bad guys in the face,” Pepper said, her expression both a little apologetic, and a little exasperated. It sort of made Steve want to squirm in his chair like he was facing Sister Lucinda back in the second grade with a guilty conscience. The Avengers had made quite a comeback since the public opinion low a few years ago, but a little extra polish certainly wouldn’t hurt, particularly if it was going to be as painless as attending a party for an evening.

“But Steve is best at punching bad guys in the face,” Bucky said cheerfully. Steve shot him a glare and Pepper smiled.

“We were going to do a charity auction,” she clarified.

“Oh, you want me to draw something?” Steve asked.

“We’re auctioning off a date with an Avenger. Everyone who’s willing to participate, that is. It’ll be a good way to get some of your more well-heeled fans to put their money where you think it’ll do the most good. Send me your charity, and I’ll be sure that goes on the auction cards tonight.”

Steve relaxed at that. He’d done that twice in the USO, and once at an internal event at S.H.I.E.L.D., and it had been mostly harmless. A few hours’ conversation, a meal, and once a kiss, but he didn’t mind putting on his Captain America mask for a night out if it did some good all around. They hadn’t had anything planned tonight, and probably Pepper had put off asking both to keep the hype low enough to keep the crowds small and to prevent some other Avengers from thinking about it too much.

“Put us both down,” he said, shooting a glance at Bucky. It had been long enough since HYDRA’s reveal and Bucky’s defection from their torture and brainwashing, and the world had seen Bucky in a new light, fighting alongside the Avengers for their safety and freedom. He’d been doing fine for going on two years now, and something like this wouldn’t phase him a bit. Bucky just nodded silently, and Pepper’s face lit up.

“Excellent! I’m positive Wanda can convince Vision, and Laura is making Clint go if Natasha has to hog-tie him and deliver him on stage herself.”

“He might get more that way,” Steve laughed.

Pepper bit her lip trying not to smile. “Probably, but I am not giving Tony or Clint any more ammunition to do something that’s going to set off the fire alarms or crash the Internet. It’s tonight, 7:30pm sharp, and wear a tux. Thank you, guys!” She headed out the door and down the hallway to the elevator, and soon enough Steve heard the _ding_ of her leaving. He turned back to Bucky, only to find his expression flat, his eyes seeing through him, in the thousand-yard stare of the Winter Soldier.

Then Bucky blinked, and grinned, and winked at him, the ghost of his past gone. “You think you’re gonna beat me, Steve? Don’t think so.”

“You all right with his, Bucky?” 

Bucky picked up his phone again, tucking his blanket further around him. “Yeah, just dandy.”

\----

_“How far is he along?”_

_“Just finished verification. He’s ready to be prepared.”_

_Voices flashed over his head, just out of range the haze of lights. Tension flooded his body, needing to fight or flee, but not sure who or where or why…_

_There was a slightly creak, the rustle of paper pages, and a voice speaking._

_“Sharp.”_

_Not the start of a combat sequence. He had not been reactivated to serve as a weapon._

_“Crystal. Five. Moonrise. Drowning.”_

_A newer service code, but just as inevitable as the others drilled into his skull by electricity and pain. He fought it reflexively, as a man would fight to surface from the water, as a flower would turn to the sun, just as natural and instinctual as breathing. It never helped._

_“Steel. Sculpture. Nova.”_

_His own screams were dying in his ears as the electricity crackles faded, the words reconfiguring his brain while he could just watch the process numbly._

_“Intensity.”_

_His body felt heated, primed and supple and warm, far too much _sensation_ flowing through his nerves. He would be able to feel too much to be an effective weapon._

_“Heartbreak.”_

_His head sagged down in the compliant bow required of him._

_“Ready to serve.”_

_The shackles around his body disengaged, and a gesture from his handler told him to rise. Someone placed a soft robe around him, and tied it shut. Beneath it, he was nude. His handler looked him over, brushed his hair back from his face, and nodded._

_“You’re in luck, Asset. Today you have the privilege of serving HYDRA as an offering.” The handler chuckled softly. “Actually, there’s an auction today. Some information, pieces of equipment, captured persons of interest that are beyond their use, and of course, you. Our centerpiece.”_

_The handler forced the Asset to look up, but turned to look at the technicians instead, his expression dangerously mild. “You put the standard identification package in, I hope. I get tired of having to re-teach him everything.”_

_“Yes, sir!”_

_The Asset kept his eyes focused on the handler’s face until the implanted knowledge kicked in, knowing that to answer wrong would be another session in the chair. “Handler Pierce.”_

_Pierce smiled, teeth flashing, blond hair gleaming, and the Asset knew he’d been spared at least one round of extra punishment. “Good boy. The Council has been waiting for you all year. Let’s get you ready.”_

\----

Bucky’s hands fumbled with the bowtie, and Steve smiled. He could reassemble a rifle at a speed that left even Steve gaping and repeat that knife trick from that one movie about aliens at double speed, but give him a strip of cloth and he was all thumbs. Steve reached out and tied it carefully, tugging it just snug enough to keep its shape.

“Looking sharp, Bucky,” he said with a smile. Bucky gave him a small crooked grin, and Steve turned back to get their cufflinks, not seeing the joy drain from his face.

\--

_Handler Pierce snugged the collar around the Asset’s neck, just a little too tight, just enough to make him know his breath was, as always, at HYDRA’s discretion. He looked down the Asset’s body, to where his member was standing out stiff. His body had been so sensitive since his activation, but no relief would be permitted unless it came at the hands of another. Handler Pierce smiled a bit, and reached out to snap a similar strip of leather around the base of his swollen penis, a strip of black, smooth against the reddening flesh._

_“That’ll make a nice presentation for the auction.” He clipped the leash to the Asset’s collar, and began to walk, leaving the Asset to keep up or have his air choked off completely. That he was hobbled and cuffed made no difference to Handler Pierce. It was difficult, but at least the Asset had a sense he’d done this many times. Body-memory kept him upright. Obedience kept him moving._

\---

Bucky was watching closely as Thor strutted out onto the stage, the emcee fluttering a paper at her face a bit before turning on the charm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the might Thor! This _lovely_ Asgardian prince loves long walks through the mountains, watching storms from the top story, and having feasts by a roaring fire. Let’s start the bidding at one thousand dollars! One thousand here, do I see two? Three? Five thousand in the back! Do I hear ten?”

The emcee continued on as the various bigwigs raised their programs, laughter spreading through the audience as Thor flashed his million-watt smile at all and sundry.

“You’re not voting, Jane?” Steve asked, bending down to where Jane was leaning against the table.

She laughed. “Oh no, I promised Darcy she could. She’s over there by the pillar, driving up the bids.” Bucky flicked his eyes over to see Jane’s dark-haired friend waving her program enthusiastically as the bidding climbed past the twenty thousand mark. “Besides, most people can’t handle him for more than an hour anyways.”

\---

_The Asset stood unmoving as Handler Pierce took the podium, bright lights illuminating the stage and not letting him hide. The glare from his arm nearly blinded him, and he was grateful he’d been told to keep his head down, his hair swinging in front of his face to give him a little screen. The muzzle hadn’t been employed for this operation, though Handler Pierce had applied some slick, glossy substance to his lips, and more to his anus, pushing some thick, heavy object inside him he was not permitted to remove. His member was still hot and hard, his body sensitive beyond his control. If someone touched him, he wasn’t certain he would be able to remain unmoving._

_“Council members, our last lots of the evening, time with our own Asset, the Winter Soldier. The first hour will start at two thousand dollars, subsequent two hours at one thousand dollars, and going down five hundred for every subsequent thirty minutes. After four hours, fifteen-minute time increments’ bidding will start at twenty dollars. He has been fully prepared for your personal use.” The gavel hit the podium, and the Asset flinched. “Do I hear two thousand?”_

\---

“Is it just an hour?” Bucky asked, taking a fast drink of champagne he didn’t even taste when his voice came out too gravelly, too harsh. He made an ostentatious throat-clearing sound and tried again. “I thought it was for a night.”

“More of a fan experience than anything else. I’ve got some killer ideas for Comic-Con too,” Tony said, peering over Bucky’s shoulder as Thor left the stage and Vision came out.

“Natasha isn’t participating?” Steve asked, sounding more smug than anything else, like he clearly hadn’t expected her to. 

“Hell no, the ladies are in charge of driving up all the bids and I’m in charge of distributing just enough wallet-loosening booze,” Tony said. “Well, right up until I’m ordered on stage. I wanted to have a pole installed and all, show off some of my moves, but Pepper vetoed that.”

“Thank God,” Steve said, as Vision looked out at the audience as if he wasn’t quite sure they were entirely real, and the bidding started to climb.

Bucky tried to laugh a little, and finally just buried his face in his glass again.

\---

_A glass was lifted to the Asset’s lips, and he felt the burn of alcohol swirl through his senses before he swallowed. His head started to swim a little as two, then three cups were pressed to his mouth._

_“You like how that feels, sweetheart?” The first bidder smiled at him, though his features swam and the Asset couldn’t even attach a name to the face. “They made you vulnerable to booze for the night. So much nicer for bringing a little blush to your cheeks.” A lined, callused hand patted the side of his face, then gripped his shoulder and pulled the Asset forward on his knees, to bury his face in the bidder’s groin and drink down what he was given._

\---

Clint strutted on stage, whipping off his suitcoat to throw it over his shoulder, cocking his hip and putting his thumb in his waistband. Someone wolf-whistled, and the bidding flew thick and fast, aided by Darcy, Jane, and Natasha, but was finished by Laura Barton waving Tony’s black credit card. Laughter rippled over the auditorium as she came up to claim the prize of her husband.

\---

_“Paid good money for you. This is a week’s pay, so had to go with a few other guys.” The Asset felt his knees abrading as he rocked over the carpet, pushed by the thrusts of one man behind him and another thrusting down his throat. He was hot, too hot, desperate and moaning for completion, for release, for the trigger of their release in his body or on his skin, head swimming, pushing into the hands and cocks and even the slaps and pinches and body-blows because they’d paid for him, because he had to serve-._

_Bitter salt shot down his throat from the one in front as the man behind grunted and pulsed inside him. The fourth man lounged off to the side, stroking himself as he enjoyed the show, and third, already done, just laughed as the Asset’s body seized and came, orgasm becoming painful after so many had had him._

_But he had to serve. He was here to serve._

\---

Steve stood up as Tony jumped off the stage next to Maria Hill, a slight expression of both terror and intrigue on his face. Steve grinned and straightened his tux, buttoning the jacket before turning to the stage. Bucky’s arm snaked out and grabbed his wrist before he could step away. 

“Wait-,” he said, and shut his mouth, not certain what to say.

“You’re up right after me, Buck. Don’t worry, there’s nobody but good people here,” Steve reassured him.

\---

_The Asset’s body arced at the touch of Handler Pierce’s finger. One person had taken a flogger to him, and his body had remained sensitized and on-edge, his skin reacting to every caress like it was the first. He felt flayed open, every part of him gaping and on display. He felt used up, useless, spent down to the dregs._

_But he was still here to serve. He pushed into the touch even as his skin screamed._

_“Good boy,” Handler Pierce said, his voice smooth and low._

\---

Bucky didn’t want to let go, even as he repeated quiet denials in his mind, reminding himself of how far in the past all of that was. But Steve turned his hand over and smiled.

“How about we go as a package deal?” he suggested, and Bucky felt relief sweep through him.

“Yeah, that ought to rack up the donations,” he managed, just about sounding normal.

The emcee took both of them arriving in stride. “Ladies and gentlemen, our last lot of the evening, both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes! These fine lads have only gotten better with age, so snag these vintage boys and donate to the healthcare of our veterans at the same time. Let’s open the bidding!”

\---

_The Asset shivered as the technicians finished hosing him off, removing the stains and residue of an endless night. Combat readied gear closed in around his still too-sensitive body, the dampness chilly and uncomfortable, but for once he looked at the cryotube with pure longing for the numbness it would bring. He outpaced the technicians and nearly slammed himself into the metal cradle, counting down the seconds before the glass tube descended and frost invaded his body and mind._

\---

Bucky just kept smiling and turning, waving a bit at the crowd, trying not to see the grinning faces of people long dead. Trying not to dread a night of small talk and dinner and a fan’s frantic conversation. Trying not to be wondering why his body was prickling sweat under the lights and his mind wanted to whisper insidious words from the depths of his locked and barred subconscious.

Then Steve took his hand at the end of a turn and slipped something into it. Tony’s credit card, black as obsidian. Their bidding has reached fifty thousand dollars.

_(The Asset’s first hour had reached a million.)_

Bucky raises his own program. “Five million dollars.”

The audience gasped. Tony said something in audible tones of amused outrage. Steve looked at Bucky with a smile that knew too much from what Bucky would say in his sleep, or in the twilight before. Bucky heard the gavel come down, and gathered his prize to him, walking them both off the stage.

“What do you want to do?” Steve asked in his ear, arm around Bucky’s waist as they headed straight for the private elevators.

“Just be you and me,” Bucky said, gripping Steve’s hand tight. “Just us.”

Steve kissed his temple, and pressed the button for their floor. “You got it.”

Bucky breathed out slowly in relief, and kept his hold on Steve for the rest of the night.


End file.
